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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145340">you know that it's god, baby (when you're around her)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/belikebumblebee/pseuds/belikebumblebee'>belikebumblebee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, there's some fjorester on the side</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:16:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/belikebumblebee/pseuds/belikebumblebee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve asked Yasha to carry you half a dozen times, and it’s always been fine, even when she humored you and actually did it. But this time, somewhere between the lull of her step and the loss of her gentle hands on your ribcage, you stopped treading water and got hurled skyward; adrenaline rushing whenever she looks at you now. </p><p>Something changes on Rumblecusp, and you're going to deal with it eventually, just -- not now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett/Yasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>237</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you know that it's god, baby (when you're around her)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote myself into at least five different corners with this one, but Smurf convinced me to write myself out again, too. (Thank you! &lt;3)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s not like all of it is new. This feeling — the jolt of excitement flashing through the fibers of your muscles like tiny white-blue lightning, the pleasant hum of attraction in your bones — has been there from the very beginning, and comes as no surprise. </p><p> </p><p>What’s new is the geyser. Not the <em> actual </em> geyser, although that is a new one, too, but– </p><p> </p><p>You’ve asked Yasha to carry you half a dozen times, and it’s always been fine, even when she humored you and actually did it. But this time, somewhere between the lull of her step and the loss of her gentle hands on your ribcage, you stopped treading water and got hurled skyward; adrenaline rushing whenever she looks at you now. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yasha, did you see? Yasha, what do you think? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The catch is that you know your control has slipped, but you're too exhilarated to care. What’s a little water up your nose?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yasha, are you okay? Yasha, it’s so hot.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Or at least that’s what you thought the catch was.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Yasha, catch me!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Except you can feel your pulse in your fingertips now, your whole body thrilling and strumming like a string on a harp, and there is water sliding down the side of Yasha’s face. </p><p> </p><p>She is asking you something, and you’re saying something in response, but it’s all just words. It doesn’t matter; you understand each other. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe Caleb cast <em> haste </em>on you without you noticing, maybe you breathed in some of the wet drugs while you were underwater, but everything is crisp and clear before you now: the way Yasha’s eyelashes stick together, her breathless laughter and your own, and how the true catch is that you’ve never stopped falling at all.</p><p> </p><p>And that part is new. You’re still falling when you’re picking your way through the cliffside back to the others, falling when you get drunk in the green light of the bonfire, falling when you lie down to sleep with Fjord’s boot in your back and Caduceus’s tea on your tongue. </p><p> </p><p>You close your eyes against the whiskey dizziness, still feeling the impact of being caught in the air. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>You keep it to yourself. </p><p> </p><p>You think maybe, if Jester asked you, or Fjord, you would tell them about it. Maybe. </p><p> </p><p>But not now.</p><p> </p><p>You talk with Vilya, with villagers of New Vo, you break up fights and some you make worse (whoops). </p><p> </p><p>You and the others make plans and discard them; you make new plans and discard those, too. </p><p> </p><p>From the jungle, you get food and wood, you get to know new people and even help to build some signs. </p><p> </p><p>You all worry about Jester, who becomes more frantic and irritable with each day that passes. “Let’s just get this over with, and then everything will go back to the way it was,” she says, and none of you really believe her, but what can you do? Only what she asks of you.</p><p> </p><p>And so you do your best impression of a follower of the Traveler. You draw dicks on things. That part is not so difficult, but you smuggle a couple of vaginas in there, too. (Fuck his displays of phallic prowess, you know where power lies.)</p><p> </p><p>You do your best, and you even wear the stupid cloak, even if it does fuck up your color scheme. </p><p> </p><p>At night, you sometimes sleep next to Yasha, and sometimes, it feels like she’s too close even when Veth is sandwiched between you. </p><p> </p><p>You think that maybe, you’d even tell Veth, if she asked. </p><p> </p><p>But not now.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“How are you doing with all of this?” Caleb asks. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine,” you tell him faster than you can think better of it. “I mean, I’m not the one who has to deal with all of this Traveler bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, yes.” He nods, slowly. “It certainly is… a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, he seems lost in thought. </p><p> </p><p>“Whatever happens, we will figure it out.” And then, giving you a look that seems like it’s supposed to mean something, he adds: “Things can change, but that’s okay, because... we can adapt. This group can handle it. We’re quite… flexible. We will figure it out.” </p><p> </p><p>You don’t know if you’re pretending that you don’t know what he’s talking about, or that you do.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>With everything else going exactly like it should — the villagers leaving, the rebuilding of New Vo, the preparations for TravelerCon and Artagan’s fake ascension — you can’t shake the feeling that there’s another thing coming. </p><p> </p><p>And you have a feeling that you know exactly what it is: the tension that surrounds Jester rises like a storm gathering. Her sweetness, usually coming out light and easy, like a twist of lemon and meringue, turns heavier with every passing day until it feels like you’re all wading through whipped cream, melting and souring. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m fucking <em> fine, </em>Fjord,” she snaps on day four. “Why does everybody keep asking me that?!”</p><p> </p><p>No one dares to try and prod her after that, so you all begin tiptoeing around her, which only serves to make things worse. </p><p> </p><p>On the evening of the sixth day, Jester goes out to talk to the Traveler and discuss the last few details, and the rest of you stay behind. </p><p> </p><p>At first you don’t really hear anything except the vague timbre of her voice, and then his. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not like we’re eavesdropping, right?” Veth whispers. “We’re just being really quiet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” you whisper back, “I’m just not really feeling much like talking.”</p><p> </p><p>You all nod at each other sagely, and then most of you flinch when Jester’s voice cracks like a whip: “<em>No! </em> ” And then, a beat later: ”Well, what about what <em> I </em>want? Are you my friend or not?”</p><p> </p><p>The first on your feet, you step over to the curtain of vines and peek outside, muscles coiled. </p><p> </p><p>Jester stands, fists on her hips, head held high. </p><p> </p><p>You don’t catch what she’s saying now, but when Artagan opens his mouth to speak, you see her raise a finger, and you swear she grows by at least an inch. </p><p> </p><p>“–no, listen! I will help you out, but you made this mess and now you’re gonna lie in it! All these people–”</p><p> </p><p>Fjord has come up behind you, frowning, and with his fingers outstretched like he’s ready to summon his sword, but you raise your hand. </p><p> </p><p>“I think she’s got it covered,” you murmur to him. </p><p> </p><p>Your eyes meet Yasha’s, and you both smirk. </p><p> </p><p>Outside, Jester’s ire thunders and flashes, a relieving downpour after a week-long drought. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll put on some tea,” Caduceus says. “She might want some when she comes back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Should I see if Anola has some pastries?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Veth, I think that’s… that would be a great idea.”</p><p> </p><p>“Caleb, do you think you could– these little memories that you made last week–”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sure–”</p><p> </p><p>You glance back to where Jester is now standing with her arms folded, making no move to allow Artagan to take her hand. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Someone goes out and angers the dinosaurs, because <em> of course </em>they do, and then comes screaming back into camp with a screeching gang of raptors on their heels, because why the fuck not. </p><p> </p><p>You realize that that's technically bad news, but the thing is, you get to use the <em> Belaborer</em>, which is still the sexiest staff you’ve ever seen. So you’re not going to pretend like you’re not having fun — at least until you turn around to find that one of them has snuck up on you.</p><p> </p><p>In and of itself, that is not a problem; you can handle yourself. But before you can do so much as get your bo up, there is a bright flash of silver, a sickening crunch, and the raptor falls apart in halves. Behind it, Yasha is covered in blood, breathing hard, <em> Skingorger </em> still outstretched and dripping. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” she asks, and it must be by nothing less than Ioun’s divine intervention that you manage to regain your wits enough to stutter, “Yeah, I’m– it’s– I’m– yeah, great, thanks!”</p><p> </p><p>Gods, you’re fucked.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Here is what TravelerCon amounts to, in the end: a big fucking mess.</p><p> </p><p>They gather everyone on the beach in the evening — there is music, refreshments, and light tricks of arcane and pyrotechnical nature. At first, it’s all well and good. </p><p> </p><p>The Traveler makes his big appearance. Light flashes, a drum booms. A spectral unicorn poops on the head of that one stuck-up bitch with the bodyguard. You appreciate that. She doesn’t. </p><p> </p><p>And then Artagan does something that you didn’t expect, and judging by the uproar that it causes, neither did anyone else: he takes off his hood and tells them the truth. </p><p> </p><p>Or at least a polished version of it; you notice that “my back-up plan was to let you all get pulled into the thrall of an astral demi-god so I wouldn’t have to deal with your pesky problems anymore” didn’t make the cut. </p><p> </p><p>But he tells them about his true identity, about Jester and how they’ve given each other power, about struggling to live up to the expectations that come with being a new deity. It’s all very cleverly worded; even you begin to feel a grudging sympathy rise in the back of your head. </p><p> </p><p>The sizable mob of Traveler believers, however, begins to shift and whisper in hushed tones regardless. </p><p> </p><p>Next to you, Caduceus weighs his head from side to side. “You know, when he puts it like that, it sounds so… reasonable.”</p><p> </p><p>Caleb snorts, snide. “<em>Was für ein Scharlatan, </em>” he mutters to himself. </p><p> </p><p>Artagan ends with a wink and something that is half an apology, and half congratulating himself on having pranked them all. He’s still smiling, but you can see the discomfort in the tension of his brow. </p><p> </p><p>A man gets to his feet, shakes his fist and shouts something in Zemnian that you don’t understand, but Caleb makes a face that says <em> fair enough, </em> so you figure it’s criticism <em> .  </em></p><p> </p><p>Jester steps up beside Artagan. Her first few attempts to get everyone’s attention fail, and just when you’re getting ready to give a piercing whistle, she shouts: </p><p> </p><p>“Hey! Everyone shut the<em> fuck </em> up!”</p><p> </p><p>Being direct and using expletives — always useful with followers of the Traveler. Maybe you should join. </p><p> </p><p>“What Artagan is trying to say is that in order to continue watching over you all, he’s gonna have to ascend to a higher plane or something, so he’s gonna be around less. If you can’t handle that or you wanna go pray to some other god, you can leave. Or you can stay and continue to spread some chaos, and he’ll still check in sometimes, and we’ll still be like, a community of the Traveler. That is important, too, you know? This all started with the Traveler just being my friend, and maybe that’s all some of us really need, is someone to talk to. Maybe we can all make some friends here and be that for each other.” Jester pauses. “And sometimes when you really, <em> really </em> have a problem, maybe you can also talk to me, because my friends and me are also <em> pretty </em> powerful. Which is all thanks to the Traveler, of course, so <em> technically, </em>he’d still be helping you.” </p><p> </p><p>You wince a bit at that, but what’s done is done.</p><p> </p><p>The whispering has turned into full on discussions that are being had, people talking with and over each other. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll kill the fucker!” someone shouts; “Oh, did wittle baby not wike being <em> tricked</em>, only wanted to do the <em> tricking? </em>” someone else jeers back. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, there’s a– there’s a fist fight going on,” Caduceus says. “I’m thinking we should maybe–”</p><p> </p><p>“–join them,” Yasha nods. “Yeah, I think so–”</p><p> </p><p>“I was gonna say ‘stop them,’ but okay–”</p><p> </p><p>Running a hand over your face, you jump up on the wooden stage to join Jester.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want us to do?” you ask.</p><p> </p><p>To your surprise, Jester seems as relaxed and free of worries as you haven’t seen her in weeks. “Nothing,” she tells you with a shrug and a smile. “Have a drink, have a cupcake. This is just a little <em> chaos.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>With a little wave to the band, she bids the confused musicians to resume playing a merry tune, and then she splits a muffin with Artagan. </p><p> </p><p>She really <em> is </em>the high priestess of trickery.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>(<em>Not now, </em> you tell yourself as you close your eyes and let the sounds of Yasha’s bone harp wash over you in the early hours of the morning; when the debates and fights have ceased, when friendships have been forged, bonds struck up, roots have been extended. <em> Not now.  </em></p><p> </p><p>You open your eyes, and Yasha meets your gaze across scattered groups of people. Some of them are talking, some sleeping. Some are having a very early breakfast, or maybe still a night snack? Who knows. You, for one, are absolutely fucking exhausted. Veth is passed out against your side. </p><p> </p><p>The first fresh glow of sunshine is creeping up on the horizon, the sounds of the harp and the ocean are mixing, and Yasha is looking at you. </p><p> </p><p><em> Not yet.</em>)</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>You settle on Zadash first, then back to the Xhorhaus. </p><p> </p><p>You’ve said your goodbyes to Vilya, Vo, and all the new friends that Jester has made, and while Orly and Marius are pointing the <em> Nein Heroez </em>towards Nicodranas, you let Caleb take you back to the Empire. </p><p> </p><p>There are people to check up on over there: Pumat Sol, the Gentleman (what is it with Jester and smarmy men who won’t take responsibility, anyway?), and okay, while you’re there, you might as well go and see if Zeenoth has any news. Maybe brag a little about your involvement in the end of the war. You’ll definitely be arriving in your Expositor robes. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright then, everyone ready?” Caleb asks, his chalk hovering over the last stripe of the incantation. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we’re ready,” Veth tells him, but you hear the intake of breath at your side. </p><p> </p><p>When you turn your head, Yasha looks stricken, and you remember–</p><p> </p><p>Caleb’s circle is taking you to the Cobalt Soul, where Obann made Yasha strike down scholars in the same blue robes as you yourself sometimes wear. </p><p> </p><p>While everyone hurries through the portal, Yasha takes deep breath after deep breath — you grab her hand and pull her through with you. </p><p> </p><p>One of you lets go a couple of moments after you arrive; you’re not sure who.</p><p> </p><p>Enjoying the reverence of the younger scholars at the sight of you, you tell them that you’ll be back to meet with Zeenoth later, and herd everyone out into the streets.</p><p> </p><p>(You can feel Jester’s gaze on you like a net. You pretend not to notice.)</p><p> </p><p>Despite everything — how you first got there, how you felt as a novice, all the bad memories attached to this place — you still fucking <em> love </em>Zadash. </p><p> </p><p>You love the smell of fried food and spices, the dusty alleys and houses looming high above you, the arches and spires, the bustle of the Pentamarket. When everything got too much at the Cobalt Soul, you used to sneak out sometimes, stumble around the city and imagine the life you could have had here if your idiot father had agreed to let you run the business your way. But most importantly, this is where you and the rest of the Mighty Nein — minus Caduceus — really ended up sticking together. This is where you became friends, rather than just a bunch of fuck-ups who happened to travel together out of convenience. </p><p> </p><p>Or maybe that’s just how you felt, drinking mulled wine with Mollymauk.</p><p> </p><p>Struck by a sudden bout of nostalgia, you hear yourself say: </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you know what we should do? We should go to the bath house.”</p><p> </p><p>And that, as you will only realize thirty minutes later, is the first in a series of mistakes. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>You’re not a particularly modest group of people; you’ve seen each other naked a bunch of times. You own a communal bathtub. You have never had a problem with this.</p><p> </p><p>You also know exactly what Yasha, specifically, looks like without her clothes on, because you’ve <em> also </em>never been shy about getting a good look every chance you got. </p><p> </p><p>But as it turns out, your little geyser moment on the island has fucked that up, too, because the moment you realize that you’re going to be <em> in the hot water, naked, with Yasha, </em>your brain decides to just sort of… check the fuck out. </p><p> </p><p>And it’s not even the abs or the boobs or the scar across the blades of her shoulders that draw your attention, although you definitely notice all of it. It’s dumb stuff instead, like how a wet strand of hair clings to Yasha’s cheek, or how her laugh reverberates through the tiled room when Sprinkle jumps onto her head. </p><p> </p><p>You’re so busy maintaining your cool and collected exterior that you don’t even notice your second mistake, which is–</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’m not feeling it,” you say when Fjord suggests sitting down in the steam bath for a while, and Yasha and Veth immediately agree to join. </p><p> </p><p>Caleb gives you a look, but shrugs. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go.” </p><p> </p><p>You only realize what you’ve done when your gaze falls to Jester, who is pointedly not looking at you. “You guys go on ahead without us,” she says, a little too saccharine even for her. “I’ll keep Beau company.”</p><p> </p><p>And sure enough, the second the others are out of earshot, she turns to you without mercy. </p><p> </p><p>“So are you ever gonna make a move on Yasha, or what?” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” You really should have known that Jester would bring it up eventually. </p><p> </p><p>You should also have known that she wouldn’t pass up the chance to do it when you’re naked and unable to run away. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t <em> what </em>me, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Why haven’t you kissed her yet?”</p><p> </p><p>The water is too hot, all of a sudden; you reach for the side of the pool and pull yourself up a little, splashing around to buy time as your mind stumbles and reels.</p><p> </p><p>“I– wh– that’s– why haven’t <em> you </em> kissed <em> Fjord </em>yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Jester doesn’t miss a beat. “How do you know I haven’t? And don’t ask it back, there is way too much sexual tension going on between the two of you for you to have made out already, <em> trust </em>me, I’ve been paying attention.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know because we spend all our time together and I haven’t seen the two of you lock lips?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a good point, actually,” Jester concedes, sinking down a little bit to thoughtfully blow bubbles into the water. “Anyway, we were talking about you and Yasha. What’s the matter, Beau?”</p><p> </p><p>Her voice is much softer now, and the problem with that is that you can’t really be deflective with her when she’s being all earnest and caring or whatever. </p><p> </p><p>“You know me,” you start, hoping she’ll understand. “I’m not exactly… the relationship type. Yasha deserves someone who knows how to… say things. Do things.”</p><p> </p><p>Jester looks back at her with such an honest look of contemplation that, for a moment, you think that she gets it. She takes your hand in the water. </p><p> </p><p>“Beau,” she starts gently, “that is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever — <em> ever — </em>heard. And you know I’ve heard a lot of bullshit.” </p><p> </p><p>Irritated, you pull your fingers back and throw your hands up, making the water splash a little. “It’s not, though!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it is,” Jester says, and then, with a gasp, Caduceus breaks the surface of the water beside her. </p><p> </p><p>Out of breath, he pants: “She’s right, you know.” He shakes water from his ears. “It kind of is bullshit.” </p><p> </p><p>You stare at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” he mumbles, sheepish. “I was… trying not to invade, but I ran out of air.” </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The truth is, you think as you lie awake in your room at the Evening Nip, that you don’t know yourself what’s going on with you.</p><p> </p><p>You’ve never been this hesitant.</p><p> </p><p>When you really think about it, the whole thing is Fjord’s fault. </p><p> </p><p>You had been as good as over your crush on Yasha — no hard feelings, of course, but it turned out she used to be married and then she got mind-controlled and it was all very serious for a light-hearted crush type of thing. So when she came back, you were obviously really glad to have her back and all that, but crush-wise, you were fine.</p><p> </p><p>The part where you told Yasha that she’s beautiful was… force of habit, more or less. Not that it wasn’t true. Yasha looks fucking incredible, but that’s beside the point. </p><p> </p><p>The point is that you said it, and then Yasha said it back, and instead of dunking your head into a barrel of ice cold water like a true friend would have done, Fjord just stood there like an idiot and didn’t say a damn thing, and that is why you somehow opened that door again. Always has something to say about your social skills, that one, but “don’t catch feelings for your friends” is apparently not on the curriculum. Thanks a lot, <em> Fjord.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Jester hasn’t been particularly helpful, either, but first of all, you’re never actually gonna blame Jester for anything, and second of all, by the time you watched Yasha eat clay and somehow found it adorable, you were probably way past being helped, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>How anyone can be so fucking cool while also being such a dork is beyond you, and you don’t even know if you mean Yasha or Jester.</p><p> </p><p>The part where you asked her to carry you — well, you only have yourself to blame for that, you suppose. But to be fair, you were very weak at the time, and you’d just woken up to the tingling feeling of Yasha’s soft, warm magic coursing through you while she was growling above you. </p><p> </p><p>Yasha looked so… soft, and so happy to be of help, when you asked. Because she’s a great fucking person. </p><p> </p><p>Who keeps saving your ass. </p><p> </p><p>Like three hours ago, when she tackled you against a wall, just in time for that falling scaffolding to miss you both. It was a very close call; you remembered to give her a suggestive look and wiggle your eyebrows just in time, or someone might have noticed how your body just… forgot how to do its thing for a fair few fucking moments. </p><p> </p><p>And now here you are, wide awake with the memory of Yasha’s body pressed up against yours fresh and stark in your mind, and the whole thing, from beginning to end, is Fjord’s fault. </p><p> </p><p>Unbidden, a flash of Yasha’s face rises to the surface of your mind, stunned at her newfound ability to fly, and your attempts to place blame and hone your edge fall away.</p><p> </p><p>Does it matter who’s to blame?</p><p> </p><p>Are you losing your edge, or do you just not need it for this?</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Since you're there, the Gentleman has a favor to ask, and so you find yourselves back in the sewers, looking for a monster that is inconveniencing his smuggling business. </p><p> </p><p>It's Caleb who finds it.</p><p> </p><p>"Help," he says, as he's hanging upside down from a tentacle. "Help help help help help." </p><p> </p><p>So you do what you're best at: you grab another squirming, squishy arm and swing around, going for a hard, high kick before you let go. It’s as easy as breathing to tap your knuckles in the air and with a soft <em> crackle, </em> you <em> pop-pop </em>the creature on impact. With a horrible sigh, it lets Caleb fall down in a heap and a splash (“Thanks, Beauregard, ow…”) as you land on its back. </p><p> </p><p>As Fjord sends an arc of green energy along the blade of his sword, arm outstretched, you take a second to look around and catch Yasha staring. </p><p> </p><p>You can’t help it. </p><p> </p><p>You wink.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>You all prepare yourselves for the perpetual darkness of Rohsona by waiting until nightfall in Zadash before having Caleb draw up a teleportation circle. Jester even remembers to message Essek and Vedalla before you go.</p><p> </p><p>What you <em> aren’t </em>prepared for, however, is what it’s like to see the Xhorhaus waiting for you at the end of the street.  You’d forgotten just how inviting and warm it looks, with its ridiculous, softly-glowing tree sprouting at the top; how much you’ve turned a house into a home. </p><p> </p><p>You breathe it in when you step over the threshold, smelling the scent of the hardwood floors and, surprisingly, bacon sizzling in a pan. </p><p> </p><p>“Welcome home,” Vedalla calls from the kitchen, “I hope you’ll find everything to your liking!”</p><p> </p><p>Just for the bacon, you give her a platinum, because why the fuck not. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“I maybe wouldn’t go down there,” Caduceus says through the open door from where he’s carefully bundling up herbs for drying in the dining room. </p><p> </p><p>Your foot stills in the air above the steps down to the basement spa. “Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>He considers this. “Well, yesterday, Fjord was practicing his <em> illusion </em>spell. It was very pretty, all those glowing jellyfish… anyway, he and Jester are down there at the moment, and I got the feeling they might have a heart-to-h–”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” you say, retracting your foot as quickly as possible, “alright, okay, thanks for the heads-up, definitely not going there.”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Most of your time is spent on the road, sliding from one adventure into the next, and as long as you’re with the Mighty Nein — you wouldn’t have it any other way. </p><p> </p><p>But you’re not going to lie, having a little vacation at home is pretty nice, too. </p><p> </p><p>Veth and Caleb hole up in the laboratory for hours, sometimes emerging with new dope shit, and sometimes coming out with their eyebrows singed off. </p><p> </p><p>You spend an absolutely fucking delightful evening getting royally fucked up with Caduceus. (Or at least it’s delightful until he gently asks you about Mollymauk, and then it’s cathartic, you guess.)</p><p> </p><p>Jester, aglow with a new type of happiness that makes your chest contract with affection for her, covers the walls of the staircase with paint —  murals of your adventures together. There’s one of Yasha with her wings unfurled, white and golden and luminous, and one of Veth shooting at a barrel of oil. There’s even one of Molly juggling his swords in Hupperdook. Reani is there; you find Keg sitting with her elbows on her knees, and Kiri playing with Luc and TJ. As you slowly take step by step, following the stream of images, you come across Jester. Leaning from a ladder, she’s giving Fjord a truly gigantic hat, and a far better beard than he actually has. </p><p> </p><p>In the evenings, Yasha sometimes plays the harp for all of you, and sometimes, some of the others sing along. Well, mostly Veth, and she’s a terrible singer, but still.</p><p> </p><p>You catch up on some sleep. </p><p> </p><p>It’s good. </p><p> </p><p>There is even a moment where you take a running leap at a particular cliff that you’ve been staring down, but–</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Fjord.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mh?”</p><p> </p><p>“You know how we’re friends?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, goodness.” He sets down the sextant he was fiddling with, and turns his full attention to you as you close the door to his room behind you. “Did you kill someone you shouldn’t have killed? It’s not Vedalla, is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Fjord,” you hiss, “no. No, I didn’t fucking kill anyone. I just…”</p><p> </p><p>You take a deep breath. </p><p> </p><p>“Can I ask you for a favor, but you’re not allowed to tell anyone, or ask me about it, or be annoying about it in any way? It won’t be anything bad.”</p><p> </p><p>He stares at you for a couple of seconds. “Well,” he starts, “since we’re friends, I’m gonna go with a tentative ‘yes’?”</p><p> </p><p>You think about how to word your request — all you need is for him to take Jester out on a walk or something, so that you can do something with the balcony– you don’t have any fancy spells, but maybe some flowers — are there flowers in Rohsona? Shit, you didn’t think this through, this isn’t your thing–</p><p> </p><p>“Beau?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm,” you hear yourself say, reaching for the door handle, “nope.”</p><p> </p><p>–the moment passes you by.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The vacation ends with a message from Allura, asking you for assistance with unofficial business of the Tal’Dorei Council. You agree, especially since you are invited to get there by–</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Airship!" </em></p><p> </p><p>Veth sprints ahead to where the Leviathan of a vessel is tethered, straining against its ropes in one moment, slowly swaying forward the next, making them look like thick, live snakes fighting with the ship.</p><p> </p><p>"This," you inform the others, "is dope."</p><p> </p><p>"I feel like we should buy one," says Jester.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, definitely."</p><p> </p><p>"We could be pirates, but in the air," Yasha suggests, and if that's not the best idea you've heard in a while, you don't fucking know what is. </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Yes," </em> you breathe. "Fuck yes, let's do that! We could be the menace of the skies!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." Fjord sounds dry and not half as excited as he should be. "I'm sure there's nothing that could go wrong with that — just out of interest, who in this group can fly again?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yasha can fly," Caleb throws in. "Veth and I can cast <em> Feather Fall." </em></p><p> </p><p>You shrug. "I have a tendency to land on my feet." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, well then." Fjord nods, obviously unconvinced. "Just a matter of acquisition, then."</p><p> </p><p>Indignant, Jester rolls her eyes. "It's <em> one </em> airship, Fjord. How much could it cost?"</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>According to Darek, your captain, the answer is “a lot,” but by the time your vessel is attacked by harpies, you’re a tad less enthusiastic about it, anyway. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a pleasant enough ride at first; the landscape glides by beneath you like the most realistic map you’ve ever seen. As you slip through the Cyrios Mountain Range with its highest peaks seemingly close enough to touch, you can’t help but hold your breath a little bit — “Hey, Yasha,” you say, and pretend to lick the top of a glacier like it’s ice cream. It makes her laugh. </p><p> </p><p>Just as the glittering blues and greens of the Lucidian Ocean come into view on your left, the wind picks up. On the right, the Frigid Depths look darker, frothier, more likely to throw <em> The Nein Heroz </em>around like a toy. You are called below deck to sit down in rows of cushioned chairs that face a small stage — unfortunately, you don’t get to find out whether the entertainment is any good. Because just when the last passenger has found their seat, a hand smacks up against a window from the outside, someone screeches, and then things go very wrong, very quickly. </p><p> </p><p>“Stuff your ears!” Caduceus roars, but it’s too late. Even through the triple-glazed windows, you can hear them. </p><p> </p><p>Like a bow on a string, like the sun caught in a drop of water, like the strong beat of feathered wings, the song of the harpies calls to you, you need some air, you need to join them–</p><p> </p><p>“Beauregard! Focus!” </p><p> </p><p>You snap out of it with Caleb’s elbow in your ribs. </p><p> </p><p>All around you is the sound of glass shattering; instinctively, you turn your face away as the pompous nobleman in the row before you kicks the window in his frantic attempt to climb out. Seeing as you very much doubt that he can fly, you pull him back and stun him with a flat hand to the temple — you’re helpful like that. </p><p> </p><p>You see Veth perched on the back of a chair near a broken window; her crossbow bolt hisses and misses. Cursing, she reloads. </p><p> </p><p>There's a commotion at the end of the carriage, a flash of blue and white, veiny hands — you throw a spiked star, and someone who is not Jester shrieks in pain.</p><p> </p><p>You turn and turn; there's Fjord, there's his sword, you veer around and see– </p><p> </p><p>Yasha is rows and rows away, but you know that face, and you've seen it go vacant before. Two steps, and she's by the window. </p><p> </p><p>Someone's in your way, but you shove them aside, jump over velvet-covered chairs and abandoned food wagons; a waitress is cowering in the aisle, and you clear her without issue. </p><p> </p><p>Yasha's hands — those hands that caught you, the hands that grow taut and white when they grasp <em> Skingorger — </em>grasp the frames like they're not spiked with broken glass. </p><p> </p><p>Your throat catches and burns, you might be calling her name — you catch her elbow–</p><p> </p><p>She's so strong; slips through your fingers like you don't exist.</p><p> </p><p>"Yasha, Yasha, <em> stop– </em>"</p><p> </p><p>On the second try, you manage to pull her back far enough to land a good slap, but nothing sparks.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, shit–"</p><p> </p><p>She evades you with an agility that would be hot if your stomach wasn't a snake pit of dread. </p><p> </p><p>"–really need to teach you some- fucking- stillness- of- mind–"</p><p> </p><p>You <em> rip </em> at her shoulder with everything you've got; behind you something crashes and there's a smear of burning heat against the back of your neck — Yasha spins around, one hand still on the brass of the frame, her fingers bleeding, her muscles tight–</p><p> </p><p>Without thinking, you surge forward and kiss her square on the mouth, and then– </p><p> </p><p>For all you know, you could be on the beach. Back on Rumblecusp. God, maybe back in that blue lagoon, with Yasha’s arms around you and your heart in your fucking throat. Except this time, you’re not a coward, and her skin smells like salt and flowers… </p><p> </p><p>Yasha’s arms grow limp in your grasp, and you let her go.</p><p> </p><p>She’s looking back at you, out of breath. </p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” You ask, like you didn’t just stop the world for a couple of seconds. </p><p> </p><p>Yasha nods; a strand of hair falls into her face. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” you say. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” says Yasha. </p><p> </p><p>With a hard thud, something hits the hull of the airship, breaking the moment. The expression on Yasha’s face changes to something hard and angry, and this time you don’t stop her when she moves towards the window. </p><p> </p><p>The harpy that she catches mid-air, drags in and executes has fucking had it coming. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>In the misty-blue light of the forest at dusk, the airship looks like a fallen creature. With its balloon deflated and its ring of magic faded, it lies on its side amidst twisted trees and bushes. Banged-up, scratched, and shattered. It’s kind of pretty, in a strange sort of way, and you can just imagine the forest claiming it bit by bit as time goes on. </p><p>The harpies eventually figured out that they were getting more trouble out of this particular airship than its contents were worth to them, but not before shattering its crystal. Darek proved himself a sky-worthy pilot by somehow managing to get you all to the ground alive. Well, alive enough for your tastes, anyway.</p><p>Caleb, a little banged-up himself, did most of the crew and passengers the kindness of sending them back to Rexxentrum before summoning a dome, and promptly passing the fuck out in it. </p><p>You’d pay good money to do the same, but no matter how often you close your eyes — a few moments later, you find yourself staring up at the unfamiliar arrangement of the stars above. You make yourself breathe deeply, evenly, just like the monks taught you. Just like you’re meditating. </p><p>Except when you’re meditating, your mind is supposed to be blank, and all that you can think of is the smell of salt and lavender, the press of Yasha’s nose against your cheek, how her whole body went still. (How it was you who brought her back; not with your fists, not with magic — just you.)</p><p>The memory of it fills you up to the brim, wide and deep as the ocean or maybe the night sky. Sleep won’t come.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>With your original plan of taking an airship directly to Emon having failed, Fjord and Captain Darek work out an alternate course. Together, you push westward — crossing the Mooren River Run, fighting the less welcoming inhabitants of the Timberlands — until you meet the Alabaster Trail. </p><p> </p><p>(“Heeeelloo, trees! We’re really sorry that we made such a ruckus coming down, but we technically didn’t do it on purpose; if you’re gonna blame anyone it should be the harpies, really. Anyway, I was wondering if you could maybe show us, like, a path or just point us in the right direction or something, we’re trying to get to the Alabaster Trail? That would be really, really helpful. — No? Well, I mean. I bet you don’t even <em>know </em>where the Alabaster Trail <em>is</em> and couldn’t show us, anyway, y’know, ‘cause you’re trees… — Sheesh, okay, fine, I got the message! Caduceus, these trees are really smart, they didn’t fall for the reverse psychology thing <em>at all.</em>”)</p><p> </p><p>From there, you follow the road south to Turst Fields, where you spend <em> way </em>more gold on horses than horses have any business costing. Fucking expensive as they are, they speed up your travels by a lot, and you go further west, towards a city named Westruun. </p><p> </p><p>You’ve heard of this place before. Darek plans to find his own way from there, and you plan to visit the Cobalt Reserve — can’t pass up a potential opportunity to one-up Dairon, after all. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a good journey. You and Caleb make jokes about eating the horses to make them worth their money (which confuse both Darek and Yasha for different reasons), and trade stories with your new travel companion. </p><p> </p><p>The Xhorhaus is nice, but you think that maybe this is where you’re at home: on the road, sleeping with the earth against your back and the dome arching over you, surrounded by your family.</p><p> </p><p>When the bandits attack, you stretch out your arm and Yasha grabs it without asking, swinging you around like a hammer so you can land the kick of a lifetime. In the mornings, Caduceus hands you a hot cup of lemongrass tea. And you’re honestly not sure if you’ve ever made a dirty joke that Jester didn’t laugh at. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>
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</p><p>“I don’t really have anywhere to go, you know,” Yasha says to you as you’re leaving a small shop of curiosities. You’ve made it to Westruun, where the wind is constantly blowing your hair into your face, and while the others are off buying potions, paper, and other supplies, you and Yasha have been left to your own devices. </p><p> </p><p>You’ve just bought a harmonica that you’re planning to surprise Caduceus with — fully aware that you’re going to regret that later. Stuffing it into your backpack, you frown. “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“You said once… you said it wouldn’t last forever; all this. The Mighty Nein. Veth might go back to Luc, and Caduceus has a family, too…”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a sunny day, and there’s a bakery a couple of houses down, but suddenly all you can smell is the stifling mustiness of that hut, the foul breath of the Hag, and–</p><p> </p><p>“And I’ve been meaning to say. I’m not… I don’t have anything like that. I’d still travel around with you, if you’d have me. We could move around and visit everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>She says it like she says everything: jokes, threats, wisdoms, it all comes out quiet and simple with her. </p><p> </p><p>Even this. </p><p> </p><p>You swallow once; twice. Yasha just walks on next to you. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a nice thought. Nice enough to make you want to… eat your pants with a fork and knife, or something, because you just don’t know what to fucking do with yourself.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, you clear your throat and say: “Maybe we could let Kiri join us when she grows up.”</p><p> </p><p>Sudden and resounding, Yasha laughs. “I’d like that.”</p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p>
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</p><p>The rain smells different in Tal’Dorei, somehow. Not much, but enough for you to notice — like the same dish made with different spices. </p><p> </p><p>Getting caught in it on the open road still sucks, though. </p><p>By the time you make camp for the evening, you’re all soaked through to the bones, and by the time Jester wakes you for the third watch, you’re still not entirely dry. </p><p> </p><p>On the bright side, you <em> are </em>feeling significantly warmer than you were when you went to sleep, and that may have something to do with the heavy fur shrug that someone draped over you. You know whose it is even before Jester whispers to you: </p><p> </p><p>“You were shivering in your sleep, so Yasha gave you her coat; it was really sweet.”</p><p> </p><p>Willing the upcoming blush to stay the fuck off your face, you scramble to your feet. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” you say. “Night, Jes.” </p><p> </p><p>When you drape the shrug, still warm from your skin, back over her shoulders, Yasha does not wake. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” Veth looks up at you when you join her by the fireside, poking around in the glowing embers with a wet stick. “Sleep well?”</p><p> </p><p>You ignore her pointed look. </p><p> </p><p>“I always sleep well. You?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, could have been better. I was feeling a little cold.” </p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. My blanket’s a little thin, so…”</p><p> </p><p>Snorting, you roll your eyes a little, and the sly tug to Veth’s expression softens. She lets a moment pass before speaking again.</p><p> </p><p>“So, are you an item now?”</p><p> </p><p>You’re caught on the wrong foot; you’ll give her that. But you’re quick to respond: “Is who an item now?”</p><p> </p><p>Veth juts her chin towards where Yasha is curled up like a small mountain of muscle. </p><p> </p><p>“You and Yasha, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” It takes a second for you to stuff the memories of wings and smiles and lavender back into their mental drawer. “Nah. We’re just… we’re just friends.” </p><p> </p><p>“But you’d like to be more than just friends.” </p><p> </p><p>You almost wish she’d go back to teasing you about it, but it’s too late, you’ve crossed the line into the territory of confiding in one another. </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>Nodding to herself, Veth takes up her stick again. Sparks fly, and the embers burn up a little bit. </p><p> </p><p>“So you’re over that crush you had on Jester?”</p><p> </p><p>Groaning, you let your head drop back. Above you, raindrops are soundlessly pearling off the surface of the dome. It looks nice. </p><p> </p><p>“That was– it’s complicated, okay? I mean, yeah. Yes, I guess I’m… man, I don’t fucking know. Are <em> you </em> over your crush on Caleb?”</p><p> </p><p>You’re kind of just saying it to be a defensive bitch, but when Veth says nothing, you sit up straighter. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Are </em>you over your crush on Caleb?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s… complicated.” Her voice is quiet. “I love Yeza, no ifs and buts. Except…”</p><p> </p><p>“...except there’s a little bit of a but?”</p><p> </p><p>Veth sighs. “Yeah. He’s so far away, and I feel like I’m a different person than the woman who married him, but at the same time… I really do still love him.”</p><p> </p><p>You think about Yeza, how mild and sweet he is, and how sometimes you wonder if he could weather the force of nature that Veth has become, even if she did settle down with him and Luc. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I get it,” you tell Veth. “It’s a different part of your life.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly. And Caleb isn’t the gross, stinky hobo he was when I first met him anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“Although you did find him attractive as a gross, stinky hobo,” you remind her. </p><p> </p><p>“That is true, but not <em> because </em>he was gross and stinky, I just– oh, whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s complicated.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Veth agrees, “it’s complicated.”</p><p> </p><p>For a long while, you both just sit there, keeping watch. </p><p> </p><p>Then you say: “All the things I liked about Jester, I still like. She’s great. I just feel… different.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like you like her as just a friend?”</p><p> </p><p>You think about the way your chest contracts when you look at her sometimes, about the murals in the Xhorhaus, about her even breathing at night, and about how you’d walk straight into a live volcano for her. </p><p> </p><p>“No.” It’s easy to say, somehow. “I like her like <em> Jester </em>. It’s not– there’s nothing ‘just’ about it. You guys are my family, and I’d do anything for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Veth hums. “You realize you said you were ‘just’ friends with Yasha, though, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Well. </p><p> </p><p>You huff out a breath. “I guess I did. I don’t know, man, it’s–”</p><p> </p><p>“–complicated?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Veth holds out her fingers, and it takes a few moments for you to remember. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Chaos Crew.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>You make a <em> C </em>with your own hand, hooking your fingers together. </p><p> </p><p>“We’ll figure it out eventually,” Veth says, and you really fucking hope that’s true. </p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p>
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</p><p>You like Allura. She’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s badass. What’s not to like?</p><p> </p><p>But what you like most about her is her <em> wife.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Lady Kima Vysoren of Vord shakes your hands, pours you ale, kicks up her feet on the table (at least until Allura says “Kima” in a tone that’s neither sharp nor admonishing, yet very effective) and tells you stories of her adventures with just enough panache to make you ask for another one. And another one. And maybe just one more.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s quite something,” Caleb remarks on your way to the inn where you’re staying, still a little sour from having been referred to as ‘a little bit tragic’ by Kima. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s <em> awesome </em>,” you counter, trying to keep the stars out of your eyes. “Hot, too.” </p><p> </p><p>Fjord cocks his head to the side. “You think so?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s sort of got that battle-wise, years-of-experience thing going on,” Veth agrees. </p><p> </p><p>Yasha says nothing, and it’s not lost on you.</p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p>
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</p><p><em> Unofficial council business </em>involves an investigation into the political aspirations of the criminal underground organizations of the Tal’Dorei Republic — which explains why you’ve been invited to help out all the way from Wildemount. </p><p> </p><p>It involves gathering some information. That part is easy; it takes you, Fjord, and Jester not more than a day and a half to find out what you need to know.</p><p> </p><p>Then you have to follow some people, see where they go, and when. Stealthily. Which goes a lot less smoothly than it could, but somehow, just when the spot Veth is in is about to get <em> real </em>tight, Caleb manages to get her out of it. That’s teamwork, bitch. </p><p> </p><p>The planning, which is next, goes swimmingly as always: Fjord makes a normal suggestion (which is ignored), Jester makes an absolutely batshit suggestion (which you entertain for an hour.) Then you revisit Fjord’s idea, someone says something that has nothing to do with the original problem, and you go back to square one. Eventually, Caduceus has something to say — which can always go one way or another — and this time, it’s a very good point that unfortunately complicates things. You plan, and you plan — you make a point of asking both Kima and Yasha for their opinions — and in the end, sort of agree to Jester’s idea, with some of Kima’s and some of Caleb’s thoughts mixed in. </p><p> </p><p>It’s so crazy that it just might work, so you say: “Listen — I know we have a tendency to say ‘fuck the plan’ as soon as we get in hot water, but let’s try to stick with this one for a change.”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>At first, everything is fine. </p><p> </p><p>You find your target, you follow her, you give the password, you’re in. </p><p> </p><p>“Who would have thought that things actually work out when you stick to the plans?” Veth whispers, making you snort, and Yasha whispers back: “I know, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, that’s about as far as the plan takes you.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The first thing that goes wrong is the fact that the layout of the base is different. </p><p> </p><p><em> Eh, </em>you think, you’ve gone into places without knowing the layout before. How difficult could it be?</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Difficult. Really difficult.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” says Caduceus. “Guys, I don’t think we should have opened this door.”</p><p> </p><p>You agree with him. And so do about twenty other people, none of whom think you should be there. </p><p> </p><p>“We can explain,” Fjord starts, and then takes an involuntary step backwards when an arrow embeds itself in his armor. “Or not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck the plan,” you say, reaching for the <em> Belaborer</em>.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The air is full of beetles, humming and swarming. The joints of your fingers ache, but you like it. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Caleb’s voice echoes through the cellar, and when you look, you see Fjord’s knees buckle — your stomach fills with ice and vinegar, but Jester kisses him back to life — and you’re distracted for a second too long.</p><p> </p><p>You know you’re in deep shit when the pain is too harsh to feel it. Your entire arm just goes numb, spreading out from your shattered elbow. Your staff clatters to the ground, your vision blurs.</p><p> </p><p>“Yasha,” you hear yourself say under your breath, trying to swing your useless arm. </p><p> </p><p>Panic rises. </p><p> </p><p>You duck and kick, but it’s a close call. Picking up your staff with your left, you get ready.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“Retreat!” Veth screeches. “Retreat! Let’s get the fuck out of here!”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>You’re flying blind. </p><p> </p><p>With the way you came blocked by enemies, all you’re looking for is a way out — here’s to hoping that there is one. Your arm hurts like hell now, but that’s good; dead people feel no pain. The brick-built cellars have given way to chiseled tunnels, until the slapping of your feet against the flat stone ground turns into splashing of water and you’re wading into a cavern. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit!”</p><p> </p><p>“We have to go back, there’s no way we can get out this way–”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Who is there?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>You freeze. All of you. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “So long since I’ve had… visitors.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The voice creeps from the darkness ahead like a cold fog, whispering.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re– we’re just… we’re just some tourists,” Jester stammers out, and then makes a face at you. You shrug back; you don’t fucking know. </p><p> </p><p><em> “That’s a lie. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>Shit. You can’t help but shiver. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Is it a secret? Tell me a secret. Tell me a secret, and I’ll tell you one…” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>At the word <em> secret </em>, you feel transported to the back of a classroom. You are six, maybe seven, and the intoxicating feeling of a girl pulling at your hands is rushing through your veins. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you know how to get out of here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jester,” Caleb hisses, “don’t make deals with things you can’t see–”</p><p> </p><p>But you can hear the voices of your pursuers echoing in the tunnels nearby already. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck it,” you murmur, and move forward. The icy cave water sloshes into your boots. </p><p> </p><p>When the others follow, you can see the creature in the dim light of Caleb’s globules. It sits crouched on its heels, and it looks like the unfortunate love child of a halfling and a bat. Its skin is leathery and wrinkled, its head triangular, with clever, glinting eyes. It reminds you of a Gargoyle, but when you look for wings, all you see is a number of vertebrae spiking through the expanse of its back. </p><p> </p><p>But more importantly, you can see a hole in the cave wall behind it.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Out of here,” </em> the creature repeats. You can see a blue tongue behind its teeth. “<em>Yes, yes. Tell me a secret, something you’ve never told anyone, and I can let you out... </em>“</p><p> </p><p><em>A</em> <em>secret. </em>Whispers, whispers, wisps of dark hair falling over a small, pointed ear. <em>I’ve got to tell you something. </em>It takes a few seconds for you to realize that this scene does not fit into any of your own memories. </p><p> </p><p>“Careful,” you mumble out of the corner of her mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Jester, clasping her hands together, is already leaning forward. </p><p> </p><p>“A secret,” she mumbles. “Okay, okay… this one time, when I was little, I broke a bottle of my Mama’s favorite perfume, and then I had to go roll around in mud so she wouldn’t be able to smell it on me.”</p><p> </p><p>The creature smacks its lips, its blue tongue audibly unsticking from the roof of its mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Tastes bland,” </em> it whispers back. <em> “Of no consequence to you… I want a real secret.” </em></p><p> </p><p>The ghost of a breath against your ear, a sudden lurch of excitement. You want to tell the creature of that time you ruined that guy’s marriage, or how you stole the mail, or maybe even–</p><p> </p><p>“I set my parents’ house on fire while they were asleep inside and burned them to death.” </p><p> </p><p>Caleb says this in one fell swoop, his accent harsher than most times, and sets his mouth in a thin line. But the creature stretches its hands, claws and all, unconvinced. There is a cracking and creaking in its joints.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Mh… a hardship, perhaps… something you’re not proud of… but stale. So many people already know...” </em></p><p> </p><p>It speaks so quietly that you all have to stand still, because the splashing of water might drown out its voice — in the distance, you hear the clanking of weapons, and something that sounds like “must have gone this way.” A jolt of pain goes through your arm where it hangs limply at your side, making you feel sick.</p><p> </p><p><em> Whispers, whispers... </em> You rack your brain, fighting off the feeling of sneaking through the shadows, being led away. Something you’ve never told anyone, something important– </p><p> </p><p>“I think,” you start. You want to turn and walk away, as far away from this entity as possible. Just drop to the bottom of the ocean and walk and walk.</p><p> </p><p>The blue tongue darts out, licking the chops of this naked, greedy creature. “<em> Yes? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I think maybe I like someone.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Tell me, tell me.” </em>The creature is licking drool from its teeth now, moving around on its spot in agitation.</p><p> </p><p>Whispers and shushing... The moment is pressing in on you from all sides; fingers pulling at the sleeves of your coat, jostling your injured arm. The sudden ring of laughter, and Yasha, talking about–</p><p> </p><p>A dull ring of metal, a thud, splashing. The creature is gone, or at least most of it is.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s this for a fucking secret?” </p><p> </p><p>Yeah, you think as you climb after Caduceus through the hole, maybe you like someone. </p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Having failed is definitely the thing you enjoy least about all of this, but having to tell Allura and Kima about it is a strong contender for second place.</p><p> </p><p>Fjord takes a deep breath. “Alright, so we have good news, and bad news.”</p><p> </p><p><em> That’s one way of putting it</em>, you think, sinister.</p><p> </p><p>Allura opens her mouth, but Kima is quicker. “Bad news first.”</p><p> </p><p>“The bad news is, we got busted before we could get to the plan,” Jester says quickly, “and there were a lot more of them than there were of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re lucky to be standing here at all,” Caleb adds. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Allura says immediately. “I knew it would be dangerous, we shouldn’t have sent you down there just yet. I thought we had gathered enough information, but evidently…” </p><p> </p><p>Caduceus shakes his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. This is… kind of how this group operates. It wasn’t your fault, and we all made it out alive.”</p><p> </p><p>“That <em> is </em> good news,” Allura agres.</p><p> </p><p>That makes Jester grin, tired and depleted as she may be. “Oh, that’s not the good news I was talking about. Veth?”</p><p> </p><p>You frown, but Veth steps forward, cool as a cucumber, and reaches into her bag. </p><p>Carefully, she places a stack of papers on the table, a little damp, but the writing that covers the pages looks legible. </p><p> </p><p>“While they were distracted, I found this.”</p><p> </p><p>You really, really want to know that it is, but when you take a step forward, your knee wobbles.</p><p> </p><p><em> This is going to be so fucking embarrassing</em>, you think, and then you pass out. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Your sleep is deep and dreamless, and when you wake, your arm doesn’t hurt. </p><p> </p><p>Gods, that feels good. You take a minute, just to bend your elbow and enjoy the fact that it doesn’t make you want to puke. </p><p> </p><p>You’re also much, much cleaner than you were when you arrived back at Allura’s and Kima’s residence, and you sincerely hope that this is due to <em> prestidigitation, </em>and not to someone physically washing you while you were unconscious. </p><p> </p><p>(Not that you have anything to be ashamed of; you’re very in shape. When your elbow hasn’t recently been smashed by a hammer, at least.)</p><p> </p><p>Soft daylight spills into the room that you’ve been sharing with Jester. Is it still the same day? The next? How did you get back to the fancy inn?</p><p> </p><p>The corridor lies empty when you step outside, and all you can hear from the inner courtyard is birdsong and the splashing of the fountain.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” </p><p> </p><p>No response, but you hear a door opening nearby. </p><p> </p><p>When you turn the corner, Yasha is standing with her hand on the door handle at the other end of the hallway, fifteen yards of stone-tiled floor and white-washed walls between you. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” she says. “You’re up. I was just coming to… get something. From my room. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>You go to meet her in the middle, still barefoot because your boots weren’t just kicked off by the side of your bed, where you usually keep them. Wherever you step into the squares of sunlight that fall in from the windows, the floor feels warmer underfoot.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes; yeah, I’m fine. I’m good. Sorry about passing out, that was... It was just the… yeah. No, I’m good, how are you? Where is everyone?”</p><p> </p><p>Wistfully, you think back to times when you could finish a fucking sentence while talking to Yasha.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re having lunch downstairs, Kima ordered some–” Yasha hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s– it’s very good, you should go and have some–”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, good, I’m starving–”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just gonna–”</p><p> </p><p>The corridor isn’t even that narrow, but you try to give each other space, and so it ends up being an awkward shuffle, anyway. You catch the scent of salt. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Yasha.”</p><p> </p><p>She turns around immediately.  </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, for… yesterday. Yesterday? I’m guessing yesterday. Anyway, that creature– oh, you know what I’m talking about. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>For a moment that feels very long, Yasha just looks back at you. The window cross shadow falls on her face, curving over her cheeks and nose and forehead. Her blue eye glints. </p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t a problem. I didn’t want you to… you shouldn’t have to reveal anything you’re not ready to share.”</p><p> </p><p>Something soft and ungraspable rolls through you; you know it well by now. You’ve felt it with your hair dripping and your limbs humming back on the island, you’ve felt it in the streets of Westruun. You’ve felt it with the heavy comfort of her shrug around you. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Yasha,” you finally hear yourself say again. It’s not exactly the right time, but fuck it. You never do anything right when it comes to this, anyway. “Wanna know a secret?”</p><p> </p><p>She kisses you, as sudden and swift as catching you in the air, and you let go of everything else. </p><p> </p><p>If you have to scramble to pull yourself up by her shoulders and hips, it’s just because Yasha is so goddamn tall, and if running your tongue over the black stripe on her lower lip makes you see stars, it’s only because it’s been a fucking long time coming.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, shit,” you breathe when you come up gasping for air. “Seems like you already know it.”</p><p> </p><p>Yasha doesn’t respond. When you feel her mouth hot and sharp against the crook of your neck, your grasp on the fur of her shrug falters, but you don’t fall. </p><p> </p><p>She’s got you.  </p><p> </p><p>You vaguely, fuzzily, think back to all the moments you thought weren’t right for this, and can’t understand yourself for having wasted them all. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the others fill you in on Veth’s mysterious spoils: it’s a register. </p><p> </p><p>Well, technically, <em> part </em> of a register, and it’s not <em> as </em>useful as actually going through with the plan would have been, or so Kima likes to remind you. </p><p> </p><p>(“I mean, you would have been welcome to join us– ah, wait, that’s right, you’re too old,” you shoot back, and you’re totally not intimidated when Kima’s gaze lands on you. She raises her eyebrows, which is still absolutely fine. </p><p> </p><p>“Old enough to know that setting some brat straight is not worth upsetting my wife for,” she finally says. </p><p> </p><p>“You’d have a tough time setting this one <em> straight</em>, anyway,” Fjord says, and Jester high-fives him without looking up from her drawing.)</p><p> </p><p>This partial register contains information about smuggle routes, clients, and coded information that has not been deciphered yet, and, despite Kima’s criticisms, it is pretty useful.</p><p> </p><p>Useful enough, at least, to get you an official meeting with the rest of the Tal’Dorei council in the coming days.</p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Jes.” </p><p> </p><p>Your voice sounds rough in the darkness, like wet sand. You clear your throat, but you’re just not built for smooth and soft. </p><p> </p><p>Not like Jester, whose voice is angelic as usual, albeit a bit sleepy: “Yes, Beau?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, were you asleep already? I can–”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, I’m awake! What did you want to talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, uh– nothing. I guess I just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. You doing alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Yes! Yes, I’m doing really well, actually. Things have gotten much better with the Traveler and me, and with Fjord…” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, about that — he’s good to you, right? I don’t need to kick his ass or anything?” </p><p> </p><p>That makes Jester laugh, which is always a ten out of ten thing to happen. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” she finally says, and her voice is warm and smooth. “You don’t need to kick his ass, he is very, very sweet to me. I mean, obviously he likes me <em> so </em>much, and he’s also still my friend the way he was before, and it’s… it’s really good. I’m really happy.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good. You deserve to be.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do, too, you know. How are <em> you </em>doing, Beau?”</p><p> </p><p>Exhaling, you let the feeling rise. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m good,” you tell her. “Yeah. I’m good, too.”</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>You’ve met with queens and kings and never cared about your appearances. But, in fairness, you never really had the chance to prepare for most of those meetings. For this, though, you get out the fancy suits and dresses that Caduceus and Jester had made for you back in Nicodranas. </p><p> </p><p>“Mama always says, if you don’t have an occasion to wear your good dresses, you need to make one,” Jester tells you, and you can’t help but agree with that mindset. </p><p> </p><p>And so you trim your undercut, and redo your eyeliner. You take a nice, hot bath — well, it’s a hot bath, but you don’t exactly get a nice soak in before it’s Caleb’s turn. Feeling clean and fresh, you shrug into your dress shirt, smooth your ascot, and lace up your boots. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you in a bit,” you tell Jester as you step out into the hallway, leaving her to her puffs of colorful makeup and happy humming. </p><p> </p><p>To your surprise, Yasha is waiting for you in that whitewashed hallway. </p><p> </p><p>She's gorgeous. You take your time looking.</p><p> </p><p>The dress is still absolutely fucking amazing, but this time, she’s wearing it with a tad more confidence. If you had to guess, you’d say that it has something to do with the giant sword strapped to her back. </p><p> </p><p>You jut your chin out with a grin. “Love the accessory.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” She grins back at you, and then holds out her hand. “I’ve got an accessory for you, too. You can put it…” With the other hand, she gestures to the topmost buttonhole on your vest. </p><p> </p><p>You look down. In her fingers is a single, dark purple flower.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." Your throat hurts, suddenly. The ascot seems a bit tight, a little too warm. "I– shit, should I have gotten you something? Is that a thing?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't know," Yasha says, sounding confused. Her hand sinks down. "I don't really know how… I just thought maybe it'd look nice. You know, with your suit."</p><p> </p><p>It’s been ghosting around the corners of your mind for weeks, and now is as good a time as any to say it.</p><p> </p><p>"I… I feel like you should know…" You fold your arms, but then you remember Fjord saying that it makes you look defensive, and unfold them again. Sighing, you let your hands drop. "Look, I'm not gonna be the best at this. I mean, I'll try — you know Fjord has been teaching me how to be less abrasive and shit, and then there’s all the things Molly said, but… I'm still gonna be me. And that means I’m probably always gonna be a bit of an asshole."</p><p> </p><p>Yasha frowns. "I don't think that you're an asshole, Beau." And before you can open your mouth to argue, she adds: "I like the way you are. And I'm not the best at… people things, either. I spent so much time… yeah, I'm not good at it, either." She shrugs. "But... I got you a flower?"</p><p> </p><p>Below your sternum, something relaxes. You swallow the pain in your throat. There may or may not be a <em> really </em>lame smile on your face, but whose fucking business is that? </p><p> </p><p>You take the flower with one hand, and Yasha's hand with the other.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on," you say. "Let's go find out who's on that council."</p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p>
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</p><p>(There’s only one sentence you will write into your journal with regards to the Tal’Dorei council that evening: </p><p> </p><p><em> Holy shit fuck Vex’halia can GET IT.</em>)</p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>There are some errands you agree to run, you’re invited to go see Vilya in Zephrah, and the de Rolos back in Whitestone. Jester sends a bunch of messages to Pumat, Yuzza, her dad, Essek, and whoever else, to ask if you can “get them anything from Tal'Dorei,” which, apparently, you can. Caleb gives a deep sigh at her charity, but you’re not in a hurry. Caduceus mentions wanting to take a trip into the northern mountains at the behest of the Wildmother, and you’re fine with that, too.</p><p> </p><p>Tal’Dorei is nice, and you haven’t even seen most of it. </p><p> </p><p>You liked Emon, too, but if you’re being honest, you feel happiest when you’re all on the road together. Not that you haven’t been enjoying the fact that Yasha had a room to herself for the last couple of days. </p><p> </p><p>You leave the city walls behind with enough horses for each of you this time — which, of course, means that Veth and Caleb are sharing one, leaving you with one extra to carry your stuff. As you get to a quieter stretch of the open road, Yasha pulls up next to you.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, uh.” She lowers her voice. “I just wanted to ask… Do we tell the others about this? Do you want to play it cool?” </p><p> </p><p>Thoughtful, you let your gaze wander over your companions. Jester, Fjord, and Caduceus are deep in conversation, with Caleb and Veth’s horse tethered to Cad’s. Caleb is reading. Veth has pulled out a fishing rod that she secretly bought in Westruun, and is attempting to stealthily snag Fjord’s hat from his head. </p><p> </p><p>“You know,” you say, slowly. “I’m pretty sure they have a wager going on.”</p><p> </p><p>Yasha draws her brows together. “About us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, about us. You think we could get in on that, somehow?”</p><p> </p><p>Ahead of you, Veth <em> almost </em>succeeds. Fjord looks up, catches the fishing line, and attaches a gross, moldy cupcake from his pocket to it. </p><p> </p><p>Yasha hums. “We could tell Jester, and have her split the winnings.” </p><p> </p><p>“I like the way you think.” You hold out your fist. Yasha looks confused for a second, then drops a quick kiss on your knuckles. </p><p> </p><p>You laugh so hard you almost fall off your horse. </p><p>
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</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Not much changes, all in all. </p><p> </p><p>You fall into place with the rest of the Nein as you always do, and you keep your hands to yourself.</p><p> </p><p>Well, mostly.</p><p> </p><p>At night, sometimes your fingers find Yasha’s, and you fall asleep with your pinkies linked under coats and blankets, where no one else can see.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>
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</p><p>When you call him, Caduceus moves over to where you’re rummaging around in your bag, unhurried as usual.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Beauregard. What’s going on?”</p><p> </p><p>It takes a moment for you to find it, but eventually, your fingers hit something hard and cool in your backpack. </p><p> </p><p>“I got you something back in Westruun, and forgot about it until just now. Check this out!”</p><p> </p><p>You hand him the harmonica. </p><p> </p><p>“Aw, man, this is nice.” Caduceus smiles. “This is very nice.”</p><p> </p><p>He turns it in his hands, and has very clearly no fucking clue what it is. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s an instrument. You need to– you have to blow it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t she say that?” Caduceus asks, without looking up from the shimmering harmonica.</p><p> </p><p>Confused, you try to piece together what the fuck he could be talking about. “...what?”</p><p> </p><p>Still smiling, Caduceus looks up at you. </p><p> </p><p>“Because you said I need to blow it? I feel like someone told me that that is what she said. Whoever that is… Hey.” He claps you on the shoulder, holds up the harmonica. “This is… this is great. Thank you very much. I appreciate it.”</p><p> </p><p>And he wanders off, producing a few notes.  </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>In the end, you forget to cheat your way into the wager before you’re found out, but it’s just as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Does this story have a happy ending?” Yasha asks, halfway through Caduceus’s tale of a heron and a mackerel, and her voice vibrates through you. It’s dark, the fire is crackling, and you’re sleepy as fuck. You may have sunk against her shoulder a little bit. Mh, comfy. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” Caduceus says slowly, and you can hear his frown in his voice. “I suppose that depends on your idea of a happy–”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hey! </em>” Veth’s sudden shriek has you sitting up straight, eyes wide open. </p><p> </p><p>“What,” you say, “what, what’s–”</p><p> </p><p>Veth’s finger is pointing at you, accusatory. “Are you… <em> cuddling</em>?” </p><p> </p><p>“Why, you got a problem with that?” Yasha wants to know. </p><p> </p><p>Veth narrows her eyes.  “No, it just seems awfully… <em> intimate</em>, is all.” </p><p> </p><p>Into the moment of silence that follows, you groan. “Fine, yes, we’re together,” you mutter. “Damn it, we were gonna capitalize on your stupid wager.” With a huff, you sink back against Yasha. "This is your fault, you know. Too comfortable."</p><p> </p><p>You're jostled a bit when Yasha shrugs. "I can live with that."</p><p> </p><p>Across from you, through the flames, you can see Jester smile at you, open and genuine. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't worry, Beau," she says. "I'll split my winnings with you, anyway." </p><p> </p><p>That causes some protest from the others, but you grumble and close your eyes again. </p><p> </p><p>"'s fine. I don't really need the money."</p><p> </p><p>It was more about the fun of it, you think, too tired to make the words. </p><p> </p><p>And besides. You've got everything that you need right here, beneath Caleb's arcane dome, anyway. </p><p> </p>
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